In A Glass Dimly

 Episode Name:  In A Glass Dimly

   Written By:  Spider

         Cast:  Alethea, Edwards, Spider, Takamura and Thorne.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Alethea

     Aired On:  Thu Aug 19 02:19:18 2004

     Stardate:  54323.7

Time: Wed Aug 18 21:15:06 2004

Stardate: 54323.2

Edwards mills about the hallway. The Hallway. Or a major one. Just poking around, looking for something. Perhaps trouble. Or whatever the opposite of trouble is. As he wanders along, he peers in at the bunks, then moves along to peek in the next room, and so on.

In one of the rooms sit Alethea and Thorne: Randal's seated on the floor, occasionally putting down his tools in order to sign to Mrs. Edwards, who does the same thing. She's sitting on the edge of the bed in the small, private room in order to get a better angle on what she's working on as she leans over a hunk of machinery that's apparently been moved in there. Outside, the sound of rain pouring onto the rock face above their hiding spot creates a low, soothing band of white noise on the edge of hearing, broken by the occasional low roll of thunder.

'I love the rain,' Randal signs to Thea, grinning slightly before he picks up a hydrospanner and sticks it into the innards of the machine.

Edwards hangs back for a moment, peering inside, and not at all spying or anything. Egads, no. Just sort of scouting ahead, or something like that. Right. Must be all the black clothing affecting him.

. o O Edwards thinks "Just... making sure everything's okay here."

'Me too,' Thea signs back, a very simple set of gestures, and ducks her head forward, leaning over to peer down into the device. She sits back and rubs at her nose, looking across at him for a moment. 'Do you actually think this will /work?/' Her peripheral vision catches sight of Edwards when she sits back, and she turns to peer at him, tilting her head to the side. A vague, slightly tense smile, and she gestures him inward with one wrench-holding hand.

'There's a difference between -thinking- and -praying-," Randal signs back, a vague grin tugging at his lips. "But... yeah, I think it'll work." He vocalizes the last part for Edwards' benefit.

. o O Thorne thinks "And if it doesn't... well, I guess we all find out what death is like in a hurry."

Edwards abruptly tries to look casual, which isn't all that easy to do. "I was just... passing by..." That should do it. He wanders inside, glancing around, especially at the device that's being worked on. "What's going on?"

Alethea raises an eyebrow in amusement, turning her head back to look at Randal and catching the gist of the signs and speech, if not the whole of them. She signs back, 'I don't pray,' and shrugs. 'But I suppose I can hope.' Back to Edwards, then, her expression still somewhat amused. You don't fool me, says that expression, and she signs, 'Working on the cloaking device. And it's raining.'

Edwards looks between Alethea and the device, his brow furrowed. "The cloaking device!" he suddenly says, breaking out into a smile. "No book even. Damn, I'm good." Oh yeah. Then he signs 'Rain bad.' "It's kind of strange after spending so much time in space, too." he adds verbally.

'Very good!' This is signed after a little applause from Thea at this, after she drops her wrench onto her lap. 'Rain /good,/' Thea signs back, shaking her head in disagreement. Randal's called away by Dana, her voice carrying down the hall, and this has the tiny woman getting to her feet, suddenly looking a little more uncomfortable, for whatever reason. 'I've never lived in space,' she admits, between packing up her tools. 'What is it like?'

. o O Alethea thinks "I have to get out of this room. It was all right when Randal was here."

Edwards isn't oblivious to the shift in the surrounding comfort level of the room when Randal takes off. "It's a lot like living anywhere else." he says, making sure to speak when she's looking at him. "Except the same weather every day, and, even with the best environmental systems, there's just something better about fresh, real air..."

. o O Edwards thinks "Just talk about harmless things. That'll do it."

'The air in a ship gets stale after a while, yeah. I don't think I could put up with it for too long,' Thea replies, moving toward the doorway and stopping a short distance away. There's not really a way to get through without going past him, and the quarters here aren't exactly famed for their spaciousness. 'Speaking of fresh air, I think I'm about ready for a break. The trees are pretty thick. Want to go outside?'

. o O Alethea thinks "Must get out of this room, must get out must get out."

Edwards does make a better door than he does a window. Or something like that. "Uh, yeah, sure." he nods, stepping back, out of the room. "I hope those trees are really thick." He smiles some. "And, ah, Starfleet ships don't usually have too much trouble with stale air."

Alethea's tension level drops a little the second she steps out into the hallway; a quick glance back over her shoulder, checking on her tools again as if she's afraid they'll disappear, or something, before she looks back at him. 'No, I guess not. I imagine they probably have better filtering systems than we can scrounge.' She walks alongside him, close but not too close. The hallway only allows for so much space while allowing her to watch his face while he talks. 'They are thick enough. Or are you not tough enough to stand a little rain, Commander?'

Edwards gives one of his typical answers to that, "I'm tough enough to stand anything. The things I'm not tough enough to stand haven't been created yet." Yeah! "So don't worry about me." When he finishes speaking, he glances around the hall, then back to her as he walks.

Her eyebrows, which had been back down to normal, rise up again, and she laughs in her strange, atonal way, but the volume is very low -- too quiet, almost inaudible. It's clear that Thea's self-conscious about her verbalizations, and especially so, it seems, with him. 'If you say so,' she signs back, heading out past the entrance and into the forest. There's a small space before the canopy of trees begins where the rain pours down, and she dashes past this, out to where only the occasional drop seeps through the thick overhang of deciduous trees, vines, and huge, alien greenery not unlike an ungodly cross between palm trees and tobacco plants.

Edwards pauses in front of the really rainy area, eyeing it hesitantly as Thea dashes across. Being, well, him, he can't afford to look bothered by something like rain. So he sucks it up and rushes past, making a face when the water hits him. He skids to a halt in the drier land beneath the trees. "Ah! Oh, that was fun." Sure it was.

'You can't fool me,' signs Thea, having turned back to watch him run through the really rainy bits. 'You don't have to be all... ' and she waves her hands in wordless amusement, shaking her head slightly, before turning around in place and looking up at the sky, letting the occasional drop fall on her without seeming to mind much. And, for once, she actually smiles.

Edwards pulls off his hat and shakes some of the excess water off of it. Then he returns it to his head. Now it's actually proving useful. "Hey..." he says, when he looks at her. 'You're smiling.' he signs, before pointing at her face. It makes him smile.

. o O Edwards thinks "Now that's a real smile. Damn, I'm good."

She pauses, then, and her smile falters as she looks back at him and catches both the sign and his smile. 'It's good to be alive right now,' Thea signs back, gesturing up at the rain. 'I almost forgot, for a moment. It's like that sometimes. You put something together and it works, or you're out in the rain like this, and you forget, for a minute. And everything's okay.' She shrugs, looking suddenly self-conscious, and ducks her head forward, ears turning briefly red.

. o O Alethea thinks "Moron."

. o O Alethea turns in on herself, a complicated and self-perpetuating cycle of self-embarassment and self-recrimination.

Way to ruin a moment, genius. Edwards tries to... do something, moving so he can sign at her with her head down. 'I know.' He sighs. 'I know.'

His motions -- which must have him ducking down or something, she's so terribly short -- cause Thea to laugh a little and look up again, pushing a handful of wet hair back from her face and shrugging. 'I'm sorry. We screwed up your lives. We were just trying to fix ours.'

Edwards comes back up from pretty much kneeling and shakes his head. 'You didn't. You need help. It's just... possible illegal.' That one he had to think about, before he could sign. 'But right.' He smiles a bit. 'I know what it's like to fight evil.'

'Illegal? In whose universe? My existence is illegal. Being here, in this forest, free? It's illegal. But I'm alive. So legal... it doesn't bother me so much.' Thea shrugs at that, pushing more damp hair out of her face. 'I just don't want any of you to suffer because of us. Maybe that's too simple of a thing, I don't know. But I feel bad. I don't feel bad, but I do. And then I get confused.' A soft laugh, very soft, in fact, and she signs, 'Complicated.' The corners of her mouth tug up. 'I am sure you do know.'

'What's right isn't always legal.' Edwards signs, nodding. 'Nobody will suffer. Not for this.' Sign language means not having to worry about how convincing you sound. 'Do you think you'll win' he adds, giving her a questioning look.

Only how convincing you /look./ Half of sign language, of course, is body language. Thea doesn't look like she actually believes Edwards, not all the way, but she's not going to call him a liar -- all this is clear in her body language, and very much so. She backs up a little, and leans her back against one of the huge alien plants that don't /quite/ look like trees, allowing its broad, flat leaves to shelter her more adequately. 'Define "win."'

Edwards watches her, eyeing the tree-like thing a moment. He keeps a little distance from those, opting to stand a few feet away from her. 'Freedom' he signs, going with the usual definition in this scenario. 'Freeing your people.'

'Maybe,' Thea replies, shrugging her shoulders loosely. She doesn't seem bothered by the tree-plant-things. 'I don't think it will be while I am alive. Maybe in my children's lifetime, if I have them. That's what I hope for. More, I think, is too much to even dream about. The Alliance is too strong. Not enough big powers are against them.' She looks down at the ground for a moment, then back up at him. 'Right now I just want us to survive that long.'

'You will.' Edwards signs that with the assurance of someone who doesn't actually expect to hang around for too long to see how long she survives. Of course, there's also his trademark deluded optimism, even if it mostly manifests itself in his insane arrogance about his own abilities. 'Back home, they say good always triumphs over evil.'

'You'll never know,' Thea points out with a sort of wry sadness on her face, shrugging her shoulders once. 'But thank you.' She pauses, before shaking her head a little, pushing away from the tree, and signing, 'Back home, they must be liars.'

Edwards replies diplomatically with, 'I don't know yet.' He pauses. 'We have our own evil. Big evil.' That's 'said' tentatively, for sure.

. o O Edwards thinks "I shouldn't say anything. Does it matter? I never seem to do the legal thing anyway."

She laughs at that, then, and shakes her head a little. 'We always heard your universe was a utopia. It gives a lot of us hope,' Thea murmurs, looking off into the forest with the expression of someone who's just had one of her favorite illusions shattered. Her eyes turn back to Edwards, then. 'What, like your own Alliance?'

. o O Edwards thinks "Now tell her that you murdered Santa Claus in his sleep. Genius."

Edwards looks like someone just accused him of kicking their puppy... and he actually did it. Guilty, in other words. 'A race. A weapon.' He shrugs. 'Coming to kill us.' He looks off a moment, then back. 'We can stop it. We don't know /how/.'

'That sounds familiar,' Thea responds, and reaches out briefly to pat his arm before withdrawing her hand quickly. 'You'll find a way, Michael.' Pause. 'You always do. It's a talent.' A little shrug. 'I'm sorry. I wish I had answers for you.'

. o O Alethea thinks "I wish I had answers for me, too."

"Me too." Edwards doesn't look much comforted by the signs. No, he looks like a man with a problem that's been weighing on him for years. That's until he forces a smile. Doing an about face emotionally like that is something he's had practice with. 'Depressing.' he signs. 'We need to talk about something happy.'

. o O Edwards thinks "Yeah. Always find a way. That's why I'm at a loss back home and rotting somewhere in prison, or dead, here."

Alethea sighs heavily at that, and presses her mouth into a briefly frustrated line, watching him. 'You can talk to me, if you need to,' she assures him. 'Or we can talk about something happy. Tell me something happy, Michael, if that's what you want.'

. o O Alethea thinks "It makes me so damn happy to see him -- or not him -- or him again that I don't care. He could practically be an Alliance agent and I wouldn't care. I just don't care. Just let me sit and talk to him. Later, I can think about how my Michael is probably dead, and that this is all I have left. Acting like an idiot around some other woman's husband."

'I'm talking.' Edwards insists. 'I like your hair.' he signs inexplicably, gesturing toward it. 'You don't have any back home.' Maybe not 'happy', but...

Alethea reaches her hand up rather confusedly and runs her fingers through it, the damp strands sticking to her fingers, before signing back. 'I like my hair, too. I used to keep it short.' She glances off absently, before querying, 'I don't have /any?/'

Edwards pauses, thinking. He doesn't memorize Medes' head. 'Mostly. Shaved.' he explains. And he shrugs. 'This is strange to talk about.' he observes, and gives her a questioning look, as if seeing if she agrees or not.

She looks befuddled at that, and runs a hand over her hair again, absently. Apparently this Thea is not about the baldness. 'Yes,' confirms Alethea, the sign for that rather like knocking on a door or nodding one's hand like a head. 'But you picked the topic.'

Edwards remarks, "That would explain it." He nods and flashes a brief smile. "I'm a strange guy." Something occurs to him then. Ah ha! He motions toward himself and signs 'What do you think of my clothes?' "I call it rebelwear." he adds verbally, since that'd be much harder to sign.

His smile finds a like one in response from her, and she nods her head slightly; her smile becomes a grin, then, and she eyes him with a very speculative expression for a few moments before responding, 'it is certainly very... black. It's a little too /clean/ for real rebelwear, though.' She just spells out the word 'rebelwear.' Easier that way. 'You need to go climb some trees and hunt some animals and crawl through the underbrush and then fix some shuttles, and then you will look like a real rebel.'

'Okay.' Some of those things are rather impossible for him, so Edwards goes with what is possible. He wanders up to the tree-thing Thea's claimed and looks for a way to start climbing it. "I wish I knew a good climbing song to sing here..."

Since he's looking for a place to climb, Thea hazards talking aloud. The words are flat, and not clearly pronounced, and it's clear she's self-conscious about her speech, but trusting him with it, in a way. "You don't need a climbing song for me. I can't hear it anyway. I can only feel music." She leans against the plant-thing again, looking up at it.

. o O Alethea thinks "If this is all I have left, I'll take it. For all it's worth."

. o O Edwards thinks "That takes some getting used to."

Edwards looks back toward her briefly. "Just enjoy the spectacle. And, ah, get ready to cushion my fall." He nods and returns his attention to the tree-thing, beginning to try and climb it. "This is insane. Not completely, just... mostly."

Alethea gives Edwards sort of a funny look at the 'cushion my fall' comment. Why, exactly, she gives him that look is open for debate, but it's a wryly amused and slightly incredulous look, followed by a bemused half-roll of her eyes. She doesn't say anything else, though, just turns to lean her chin against the trunk and look up it, waiting and watching.

Edwards wrestles with the trunk. Or rassles might be more appropriately. Yes, it's really kind of silly, as he tries to pull himself up. At least it should be doing the task of grunging him up some. Actual ascension isn't happening all that much. He kinda inches his way up. "I got you now!" he declares.

Alethea laughs again; it's more raucous this time, less self-conscious. Perhaps she's not paying as much attention to how she sounds, and more to watching Edwards's antics. The tiny female peers up at him, grinning now. She can't help it.

Alas, Edwards is very, very wrong. He doesn't have anything. So, after another moment or so of rasslin' with the tree-thing, he stops and slides down the few inches to the ground. Then he turns toward Alethea and plants a hand against the trunk, leaning against it. "I decided to take pity on it and not conquer it by climbing to the top."

Alethea copies Michael's lean almost exactly for a moment. Perhaps she's mocking him. Either way, she stops a second later, if only so she can use both hands to sign. 'Very kind of you. You are good not to humiliate it by conquering it. Especially in a rainstorm.' A flash of lightning and a somewhat distant (but still quite loud) crack of thunder accompany her words, punctuating them, even. Predictably, perhaps, she jumps at the lightning but doesn't react at all to the thunder.

Edwards, on the other hand, does the exact opposite. He just glances around at the flash of lightning, but jumps at the thunder. "Damnit, even when you know it's coming..." He shakes his head and returns his attention to Thea. "What can I say? I'm a thoughtful, caring person." He pats the faux tree.

'I feel it in the ground, but it doesn't startle me,' Thea admits, shrugging slightly. 'But I only feel it if I haven't got shoes on.' Rocking up onto her toes, thus, demonstrating her very plain and well-worn shoes, she rocks back and onto her heels before signing, 'Certainly. No one's kinder than you. Especially when it comes to random plants.'

Edwards duly makes note of Thea's footwear. Because that's the kind of guy he is. 'That's why I only eat meat.' he signs, patting the tree again. 'I can't hurt a poor plant.'

'The stew had vegetables in it,' Thea points out, gesturing toward the plant. 'The shoots of these, Nathan grows them. When they're very young, they're good. Lots of vitamins and stuff.' A shrug, and she looks out at the rain briefly. 'It's not that we couldn't replicate everything. It's just that it's a waste if we don't have to.' Realizing that she's gone on a brief, quasi-defensive little tangent, she chews on the inside of her lower lip. 'Thank you.'

Edwards raises an eyebrow as he takes in the rather verbose reply to his joke. 'I believe you.' he signs. The 'thank you' makes him furrow his brow. "For what?"

Alethea extends her hands out to the sides, gesturing around. 'Everything,' she signs a moment later. 'Dealing with me.' One of her shoulders rolls.

Edwards shakes his head and smiles some. 'I like you. You don't need to thank me.' He makes a dismissive wave. 'I can't not help you.' He pauses and explains in an easier way for him, "It would just be wrong not to."

'I feel bad,' Alethea replies, acknowledging everything said with a little nod before looking up at him again, her expression sheepish. 'You've been nicer to me than anyone else out of your group. Except maybe that girl who smiles all the time. I don't expect them to be, really. But I feel like... ' She pauses. 'Like I should be more grateful, because it must not be easy to be you, faced with someone like me. And I'm glad you like me.'

. o O Edwards thinks "It's not easy, but not for the reason you're talking about, I'm sure."

'Don't feel bad.' Edwards leaves his response at that. Short and sweet. He offers another smile and motions back the way they came from. "Maybe we should head back and see what the others are up to."

Without a single sign, Thea's expression makes it clear: that's not quite possible. But for him? She'll try, anyway. She nods, and dashes off through the pouring rain toward the compound.